Crumble down on me
by turnthelightsoff
Summary: He tells her to let go and live free and she realizes it's not up to her anymore.
1. Part One

**A/N: Not the first piece I've ever written, but certainly the first one in this fandom on this wonderful website. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Little Liars**

**WARNING, this story touches on self-harm and eating disorders.  
**

* * *

She doesn't cry. It's how she's raised, it's who she is, a part of her very being as not showing emotion comes natural to her. She is a proud, independent woman (a Hastings) and she wouldn't shame her family by showing weakness. Not even to herself. Tears aren't a privilege she's known to and emotions are but a means to be buried beneath duty, honor and reputation.

So when he tells her she _can_ and to just let it all out because he's here and he'll hold her forever and always, she only looks up at him from her place deep in his embrace and because he's Toby and she's Spencer he understands and cries tears for both of them that night.

* * *

He asks her one day, why she's let her need to control anything and everything around her expand to her emotions, the one thing made to be free and explored. Why she keeps herself, her feelings, on this tight, tight leash and prevents herself from letting go and being (if even possible) more beautiful than ever before. He tells her, she should shine instead of keeping the parts she fears to unleash locked away and to indulge in the things she was taught to reign in as she may enjoy the results more than she thinks.

* * *

His words haunts her, and the brick wall that encircles her feelings starts feeling more like a cage than the protective barrier it was supposed to be every day.

* * *

She becomes hyperaware of the emotions the others in her life project, those of her sister, her friends but especially those of Toby, who expresses emotion in such an intense matter it takes her breath away. And she wishes her parents had granted her the same freedom, as she'd like nothing more than to be able to experience all of his feelings alongside him. To laugh because joy consumes them and to cry away their sadness together.

She starts feeling like a ticking time bomb, her caged emotions adding to themselves, building and building until they become greater than the vault holding them.

Her inability to unlock them, as she's lost the key long ago, makes her feel trapped in her own skin.

* * *

Toby notices the change in her, he _always_ notices everything about her. He asks her what's wrong but she deflects and refuses to give him the concrete answer he longs for. He notices that too. She wants to hate him for pushing and probing her, but she realizes she doesn't know what hate feels like anymore, if she ever even knew beforehand. But really she doesn't know what anything feels like nowadays and she wants to panic but she doesn't and then she does. She's buried herself underneath all these lies and secrets and mysteries and forgotten how to live and when she tries to cry over the life she's lost, she can't find the tears she always refused so hard to cry. And she realizes in between hiding the emotion she feels and not feeling the emotion at all is a thinner line than she thought.

* * *

She soon finds she never did have the control over her emotions she so desired, as forcing them out of their hiding place is an impossible task.

Fatigue consumes her, bruises appearing underneath her eyes, contrasting heavily with her fair complexion and she's lost her appetite, her weight dropping and her clothes hanging of off her skinny frame. He worries, his blue eyes following her every movement while together. Climbing through her window at night to see her to sleep and she evens out her breath for him and waits till she feels his lips touch her forehead and his footsteps fade away before she dares to open her eyes once more. She stares into darkness and waits till dawn comes, as he arrives with morning sunlight in the wee hours of the morning and she distantly wonders why he doesn't stay the night altogether as he prepares her breakfast. She eats and smiles and he gives her a concerned one back and she knows he thinks she doesn't see the difference but she does and she misses the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles because he's genuinely happy.

She stands and he kisses her good morning before he leaves for work and her stomach feels as full as her mind and while the content of her thoughts never disappears, she can make the heavy food go away. So she goes and vomits and she feels disgusting (_is_ disgusting), but it doesn't matter because she somehow feels better, _lighter_, afterward.

(and that's all she can hope for anyhow)

* * *

She starts drowning in the feelings she doesn't feel. Without the outlet she so desperately needs they consume and destroy everything inside of her.

Everyone is talking and keeps on talking, the sounds blurring together into the constant throbbing of her forehead. They are eating breakfast but maybe it's dinner because she can't remember and doesn't actually taste the food anymore.

She feels weak, her legs unable to keep her body upright as it bows underneath the heavy burden of everything she wants to process but is unable to. Her vision fades to black every once in a while but refocuses before she can collapse and she wishes she'd just pass out as she doesn't want to live in between darkness and reality (which feels darker than the darkness itself to her these days). Only she doesn't and she stumbles towards the counter and opens the oven never used except for today and burns both of her hands on the hot dish instead.

And they burn and burn and burn but she doesn't care because she _feels_. She lets her ever composed mother lead her towards the sink and pays no mind to the coldish water running down her red skin.

She closes her eyes, losing herself in the scalding pain and smiles.

* * *

She wants (_needs_) more and the lighter stored away in the living room to lit their fireplace tempts her with a silent promise of relieve. Her fingers tremble as they close around the metal handle and her entire being shakes as she climbs the stairs with her salvation clutched to her chest as the lifesaver she hopes it will be. She hears _his_ voice echoing in her thoughts, whispering to her about the freedom he wants for the two of them. She longs to feel the way he so animatedly describes, like she's flying, or falling, or both at the same time.

So she makes fire dance on top of the lighter and it enchants her with its warm and inviting nature. Her wrist's exposed, symbolizing how she feels, and the flames touch her skin. They lick and burn and tears prick but never fall as the heavenly pain spreads from her wrist throughout her body. And for a moment, a split second she flies and falls and she's free. Only she's not and her burning flesh keeps throbbing even after she's numb again.

* * *

She's destroying herself and she knows it but she can't seem to will herself to stop.

She doesn't think anyone has noticed how the pain has become something beautiful to her. Not her family, not her friends, not even Toby. It's what she tells herself, it's what she hopes for as she can't bear the thought of them, of _him_ knowing how much she is disappointing them.

And with every burn a part of her soul disappears, vanishing in thin air and she fears for the day it'll be gone all together. (but still she doesn't stop)

Not feeling has made her weak and exhausted and she's ashamed of herself but the scalding pain is deliciously addicting and she'd rather live in shame than give up the liberating flames.

Her sleeves irritate the hidden wounds and she feels something resembling happiness for the first time in weeks.

* * *

He finds her one evening (one way or another he'll always find her), vomiting in her bathroom. He kneels behind her and takes a hold of her hair and whispers loving words into her ear that soothe her soul maybe even more than her beloved lighter does. And she wants him to go away and leave her be and she struggles against his hold but he doesn't let go and she's grateful for that.

When she's empty (though never empty enough) she falls back into his chest and his arms around her torso are the only thing keeping her together and she fears she'll fall apart the moment he'll loosen his hold. So she curls into him and her body is shaking and drenched in sweat but he doesn't care so neither does she. He strokes her hair and she buries her face into his shirt and maybe for a moment everything is peaceful again.

He doesn't talk and she feels like she should say something, _anything_, but she has no words left inside of her. Her eyelids are heavy but as she knows sleep will never come she listens to his strong heartbeat (everything about him breathes strength), her eternal lullaby instead and doesn't think anymore.

She feels closer to him than ever before and focuses on his steady breathing, on the comforting smell that clings to him like a second skin, on the feel of his plump lips touching her hair and the soft circles his fingers rub into her ribcage. She doesn't think and feels him and she falls into his touch and into his smell (into his everything) and breathes him in and for a moment she feels like she's a part of him as much as he's always been a part of her. It consumes her from the inside out and she can't breathe but doesn't panic as it's the taste of freedom that's swelling in her throat.

Her fingers grip into his shirt and her body grows stiff but she realizes she doesn't have the energy left that it'll take to fight whatever is happening and her tired eyes meet his and ocean blue encourages her to let go of herself and latch onto him instead.

So she crumbles.

Tears leak from underneath closed eyelids and it's Toby who keeps her uprights as her body is swept away in the tide. Walls give in and fall and a wild hurricane consumes her mind.

It's too much and it hurts but at the same time she wants to feel this way into infinity. Thunder strikes and rain pounds and her thoughts are blown away by howling wind leaving only pure and raw emotion behind and they scratch at the inside of her mind until they leave her body in the salt tears dripping down her cheeks.

She's lost, she's lost, she's lost.

His hands close around hers and she's found again.

She opens her eyes and sees blue through tears and he doesn't need to say anything as his eyes tell faster than words can.

_Don't hold back._

And the storms breaks apart and the sun is shining and a feeling so intimate creeps upon her it overpowers all others. It represents blue eyes and strong arms and everything Toby and the love always brewing underneath the surface explodes inside of her.

She arches upwards and gasps and he presses his forehead against her own. Tears mingle as he shares whatever she is feeling and she wants to say something but she loves him more than words can tell.

His eyes hush her stumbling mind into silence and love springs between their bodies and Spencer is free again.

* * *

**A/N: It's somewhat short and written in under two days but this couple gave me back my muse and I wanted to share something before he'd disappear again.**

**Your feedback would mean the world to me.**

**- Lynn**


	2. Part Two

**A/N: Inspiration kept me going and I decided to add Toby's experience as second part. **

**I want to thank my guest reviewer (lola) from the bottom of my heart as she was so sweet about my story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Little Liars**

* * *

He's not ashamed of his emotions, they represent who he's grown up to be and he's never believed in hiding who you truly are as it'll only lead to hurt and pain. He cries when he feels sad because the tears wash away the grieve like rain washes away dirt and he needs it to move on. Some nights he cries silent tears for hours, his past leaving his body through wet tracks down his cheeks and she holds him as darkness engulfs them and in the morning he feels relieved and serene waking up in her slender arms.

It takes him too long to realize she doesn't let herself operate the same way.

* * *

They cry and cry and cry and he watches as his girl comforts her friends without spilling one tear herself and he marvels over her strength and worries over her well-being.

At night he pulls her willowy form into his own and forms a barrier regarding the outside world around her with his body and wants her to know they are in this together and she can break down in his arms and he'll never see her as any less than the person she is.

She doesn't seem to understand and he pulls her close enough to hide his face in her hair and leaks the tears he wishes she'd cry instead.

* * *

It's impossible to not feel grieve or sadness or fear and yet Spencer makes the impossible seem effortless. It's a revelation he hates but can't seem to let go of or forget.

As, if she doesn't feel the bad how can she feel the good?

And Spencer deserves to feel everything good.

He walks and stares at trees and hates mankind for forcing her to experience so much horrible she felt the need to lock everything away without realizing it and he wants to do something about it, help her in any way he can, but he doesn't know how.

He walks and thinks but finds no answers.

* * *

Eyes narrowed and observing he watches her and he decides he doesn't like what he finds. There's this struggle inside of her eyes that hadn't been visible to him before and chills run down his spine as he imagines how much willpower, how much energy it must subconsciously cost to remain unfeeling. She's like a bird in this cage too small for her beauty and he wants to open it for her but the bars won't bend. He wishes her free and wills her to fall into her emotions and know he'll be there to catch her, as repressing everything that has happened to her can't be good for her.

He holds her hand and tells her this and he watches as the fire in her eyes dims ever so slightly.

* * *

She's hanging from a cliff and he wants to catch her but she hasn't fallen yet. His words have stirred something inside of her and she's over thinking everything and suffocating already bottled up emotions and compressing them into even smaller boxes.

Her face has taken a ghostly pale color and at night he turns and twists and loses sleep over her well-being. He asks her but she avoids and he feels helpless as he watches all the things she refuses to deal with take her down.

He embraces her and his fingers feel protruding bones and he wants to hurt something but he doesn't and he just holds her.

* * *

He waits till sleep takes her but her exhaustion doesn't fade away. He cooks her breakfast in the mornings but his toast isn't enough to make her ashen complexion disappear.

And when she doesn't touch (doesn't even look at) her coffee one morning he knows something is very, very wrong.

It's his fault as she was fine before and he hates himself (though he knows this turning point was inevitable) and he sits and watches her troubled expression even in sleep and cries her tears and hates himself even more.

He takes her hand and kisses every knuckle and feels like she's slipping through his fingers.

* * *

One day he sits with her and they are silent and he brings her palm to cover his heart and lays his own over her breast and finds even her pulse is weak. He tells her to close her eyes and breathe and forget but she can't and he bites his lip as she crawls into his lap and stares at the ceiling without blinking.

He can feel himself dying inside as he watches her watch nothing and he worries about right now and he worries about tomorrow.

* * *

Her birthday comes and passes and he wishes he could've give her hope or freedom but he couldn't and she's stuck in this place and he wants to get her out of it but how do you save someone from drowning in themselves?

So instead he kisses her and her lips are chapped and dry and he pours all the love he holds for her into it but she doesn't seem to notice and that hurts almost as much as watching her fade away.

* * *

She lays in bed unmoving and stares and he sits with her and watches her passive face and fears she'll never find her way back to him again. He talks and tells her about freedom but she never acknowledges his presence and he wants to beg her to say something but instead he falls into a restless quiet that'll haunt him in his dreams.

She sits and gazes into nothingness and her eyes are blank and glazed over and sometimes he lays with her and intertwines their fingers and pretends everything is alright but it isn't and he hates the world as Spencer isn't this person and they, _he_ made her into this. A servant to an untouchable past and he knows the control she always exerted over herself is now controlling her instead. She's breaking herself and he's unable to do anything as he watches her mind destroy her body.

* * *

One day her bed is empty and she's walking around the house like nothing is going on but everything is going on and he doesn't understand but takes her lips anyway. She presses herself against him and she smiles into his kiss and the fire in her eyes burns but it's the wrong kind of flame. She lives for something and he's no idea what exactly but he's sure it isn't the right kind of something. (isn't the something she _needs_)

She's surviving but not living and maybe this her is even more painful than the unresponsive her.

* * *

He waits and waits but she doesn't revert. She picks at her sleeves and smiles this twisted smile and hisses when he hugs her to him and traps her arms in between their bodies. He knows but wishes he didn't and searches her room for something as sharp as the pieces of his broken heart but comes up nothing.

* * *

She's sick and her frail frame is clinging to the porcelain toilet and he can't stand seeing her this vulnerable. There's nothing left of the girl he once so proudly called his and though he still loves her more than the world itself he fears she has long forgotten his face. Still he guides her into his body and she trembles so he does too.

She doesn't move, she doesn't talk but she seems at peace and if all he can give her is a moment of serenity than he'll give her that. (he owes her that)

And she looks at him and they stare and something in the depth of her irises breaks and he holds his breath and dares not to hope this is what he's been waiting for all along. (it is)

Her muscles tighten and he can feel her entire body go rigid and he pleads for her to stop fighting but she's Spencer and she tries anyway and the hope that has build inside of him drains him dry as he watches her refuse to give into herself.

Blue meets brown and time stops and the room spins and then she's crying. Relieve blossoms in his heart and he's never been more glad to see tears stain rosy cheeks and he doesn't try to hush or comfort her as with every shed tear she relives her buried past.

He rocks her and he holds her as he watches her break through herself and he loves her more than ever before. The look in her eyes mirrors the one reflecting in his own and for the first time in weeks he cries his own tears instead of stealing hers.

* * *

**A/N: It's not much but I hope you enjoyed reading it regardless. **

**Much love,**

**- Lynn**


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